


Freshly Squeezed

by chronosaurus (kimnamjin)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (not rlly but I have a lot of minchans to post lol), Alternate Universe - Domestic, Boys Kissing, Domestic Fluff, Domestic boyfs minchan, I hope u like minchan as much as I do uwu, M/M, Making Out, Months before that lol, Rated T for heavy making out, Romantic Fluff, Short n sweet, This is the less wholesome ver of kiss the cook, and after seeing the teaser for blueprint all I have to say is: minchan gay? Minchan gay!, bc I’m abt to become a minchan acc uwu, boyfriends!MinChan, established relationship - MinChan, even tho I wrote this like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnamjin/pseuds/chronosaurus
Summary: Where Chan is a horribly messy eater, and Minho is a sucker for fresh orange juice.As in,still dripping from his boyfriend’s lipsfresh.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 37
Kudos: 244





	Freshly Squeezed

**Author's Note:**

> here, have 1.4k of minchan being in love and making out . as a treat

Chan is a notoriously messy eater.

****

They have bottles and bottles of stain-removing detergent in their laundry room, because Chan can rarely go one meal without getting a splotch of  _ something  _ on his clothes.

****

It's gotten so bad that he has taken to exclusively wearing black—which is fine and dandy, until Chan and Minho share a pint of vanilla ice cream, and the front of Chan's black sweatshirt is instantly splattered in drips of creamy white. 

****

So it should be no surprise to learn that when Chan is attempting to eat food that is tough for the  _ average  _ person, it usually never ends well. At least, not for his expensive apparel. 

****

But today went a little different.

****

Chan and Minho are sitting at their tiny breakfast table, outside the kitchen. The shades are thrown open in the living room, bathing their apartment in nothing but early morning gold. 

****

Minho is spooning sugary cereal into his mouth. Something off-brand and packed with food dye, little puffs shaped like flowers and clovers. So sweet it will probably give him a headache when he’s done with the bowl. He made the conscious decision not to look at the nutritional information on the side of the box.

****

Chan, however, went the more... _ healthy _ route. He plucked a large orange from their wire fruit basket, and is currently working his way through the bulbous ball of citrus. He's stuck in halfway, shoveling a slice of summery goodness between his lips.

****

Which is exactly where the problem started.

****

Except, as Minho will soon learn, it really won't be much of a problem at all.

****

A  _ regular  _ person may have trouble eating a fresh, juicy orange without issue. Throw  _ Chan  _ into that sloppy equation? It's a recipe for disaster.  _ Or… _

****

A recipe for freshly squeezed orange juice. 

****

Minho's lips quirked up, after he swallowed another spoonful of cereal. He reached out a hand, fingers poised to wipe the douse of orange juice from Chan’s lips. With how small their breakfast nook is, it would've been simple for Minho to do just that from his own seat. But then, as his thumb and pointer finger were nearing Chan, he stopped. He retracted his hand, and sat back fully in his chair again. Now, he's just watching Chan. Watching the display before him.

****

His boyfriend is still hopelessly groggy from sleep, his mop of brown curls fluffy to the point of appearing as a darkened cloud atop his head. He's got on his lounge clothes, consisting of a black muscle tank and rolled up joggers. His eyes are foggy, and slightly puffy like his lips. His lips, that are glossed in a  _ not-so _ subtle coating of orange juice. With each lazy bite of the citrus slice, bursts of fresh drops run from the corner of his lips, trailing down his chin and then dripping off onto his chest.

****

With how his oversized tank is askew from tossing and turning, Minho has the perfect view of each droplet of orange juice sliding down his exposed pecs. 

****

Suddenly, Minho is hungry. 

****

Not for cheap, knock-off lucky charms.

****

Minho suddenly has a hankering for orange juice.

****

Freshly squeezed. 

****

Minho shot up from his seat with such force, he almost sent it toppling to the hardwood floor.

****

Chan's tired eyes popped open, appropriately surprised at the sight of Minho jumping from his opposite chair and rounding the table. Eyes dark and mischievous. Ready to pounce. 

****

Without a word, Minho planted himself in Chan’s seat. In his  _ lap _ . With both Minho’s legs straddling his boyfriend’s hips, dangling off his muscular thighs so his bare feet hover above the floor.

****

“You're so messy, Channie.” Minho drawled, a devilish smirk on his lips as he threw his arms around Chan’s neck. He absentmindedly played with the frizzy hair at the nape of Chan’s neck, twirling tufts of loose curls around his tiny fingers. 

****

Chan gulped, sending a large bite of pulp awkwardly down his throat. Like clockwork, more dribs and drabs of orange juice slid from his wetted lips, and down his chin. With their new proximity, Minho can easily see the light, barely noticeable orange hue of the thin liquid staining Chan’s mouth. 

****

Minho licked his lips.

****

He forgot how much he missed having fresh orange juice.

****

With that, before Chan could take another sloppy bite of the fruit slice in his hand, Minho made his move.

****

He darted forward, knocking their chests together, and latched his lips onto Chan’s. Minho hummed into the kiss; tastes sweet. Not headache-inducing sweet like his cereal. Not the artificial kind of sweet that gives you a full-body shudder if you take one too many bites.  _ Real  _ sweetest. Authentic sweetness.  _ Addicting  _ sweetness. Sour and tangy and refreshing. Like how orange juice should be.

****

He wouldn't mind another sip. Another taste. 

****

Minho changed the position of the kiss. He peppered Chan's mouth with chaste little pecks, as he moved down. He licked a droplet of orange juice from the corner of his boyfriend’s plush lips. Despite the kitten-like swipe of his tongue over Chan’s mouth, the gesture was somehow overtly innocent. Chan whimpered, and tightened his arms around Minho’s waist. His fingers are digging into the dip above Minho’s hips, but the prickly feeling is grounding. It brings Minho back to reality, from where he felt like he was soaring above tropical palm fronds. He moved down more, unabashedly slurping the tack of fresh juice off Chan’s chin. 

****

It was gross, from an objective standpoint. 

****

But did Minho care, at that very moment?

****

A resounding no.

****

And luckily for him, Chan didn't seem to mind either. Not in the slightest. 

****

Minho pulled away, and unconsciously slid his tongue over his own bottom lip. It's damp and sticky and citrusy. Tastes like freshly squeezed orange juice. Chan, however, is now free of the layer of fruit juice staining  _ his _ lips and chin. 

****

In fact, Minho even swiped a finger down Chan’s visible chest, and scooped up the stray drops that made their way onto the milky flesh. He stuck the finger between his lips, all while maintaining fiery eye contact with Chan. Tastes sweet. He could find himself craving this again, and  _ soon _ . 

****

His boyfriend gulped, hard. He didn't even have any fruit flesh in his mouth, but Minho saw how his adam’s apple bobbed with the force of a lead ball stuffed down his throat.

****

Despite still being cloudy from residual fatigue, Chan’s eyes are now dark and sparkly, as he gazed at Minho through his lashes. Lucid, as he jerked forward, chasing his boyfriend’s touch. He’s looking at the younger as if he’s the most beautiful being in the entire known universe. 

****

Minho smiled down at Chan, and dipped his head to smooch his boyfriend again. His lips are relatively dried and free of a blanket of orange juice, but they taste just as sugary and intoxicating. Chan eagerly kissed back, seeming more awake by the second. 

****

They pulled away in unison, before coming back together to nuzzle their foreheads together. Chan's wild brown curls and Minho’s comb-tamed caramel colored locks mingling in perfect harmony. 

****

“Thanks, ‘Min.” Chan mumbled, rubbing gentle circles into the small of Minho’s back. His slice of orange is left forgotten on the breakfast table, half-eaten and still very,  _ very  _ juicy. Maybe they'll save it for later. Minho has a sneaking suspicion he'll be hankering for orange juice  _ a lot  _ more from now on. 

****

Minho heaved in a whiff of Chan’s lopsided muscle tank, and is sucker punched with nothing but fragrant citrus. Tropical and tangy, it works surprisingly well with the telltale earthy musk of Chan’s body. Yeah, he could  _ definitely  _ get used to this, when oranges are in season. And with watermelons, when they're in season. Or strawberries, when they're at the peak of freshness. 

****

Sweet, sweet, sweet. Everything sounds and feels and tastes so sweet, but the saccharine filter on the world pales in comparison to the sugary goodness of the boy under Minho’s chest. Minho is full of love, and cloying off brand cereal, and orange juice.  _ Lots  _ of freshly squeezed orange juice. But hey, at least he got his vitamin C quota for the day, right? 

****

“No, Channie,” Minho mused, leaning forward so he can collapse fully against Chan’s broad chest. He's so warm. So sturdy. So sweet. Minho can feel Chan’s heart pumping, pulsing through Minho’s own chest and making his skin feel fuzzy and tingly. Like Chan is a puffy cloud with arms and legs and a mop of unruly curls. 

****

Yeah, he could  _ totally  _ get used to this. 

****

“Thank you for the meal.” 

**Author's Note:**

> *nervous laughter* haha what the fuck


End file.
